A monster's work is never done.
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Red Right Ankle
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I do not know what manner of thing she is. None of us do. She killed her mother in the birthing, but that’s never enough to account for it.
They call me wise, but I am far from wise, for all that I foresaw fragments of it, frozen moments caught in pools of water or in the cold glass of my mirror. If I were wise I would not have tried to change what I saw. If I were wise I would have killed myself before ever I encountered her, before ever I caught him.
UGH just when I start feeling at peace with my writing, I reread this.
(Source: neilgaiman.com, via featherandarrow)
